Transnistria (Pridnestrovian Moldavian Republic)

 I am in Moldova this week, partly advising on a documentary, but also researching my current writing project. Today I took a trip into the breakaway state known as Transnistria, properly the Pridnestrovian Moldavian Republic (PMR). When the Soviet Union broke up and Moldova established its independence, the largely Russian-speaking population in Transnistria sought to retain its ties with the Soviet Union rather than have the Romanian language imposed upon them. In 1991, it turned into a brief shooting war with 700 dead, and a peace treaty was signed in 1992 that has held to the present day. The PMR is not officially recognised by any state, but it operates its own government and armed forces, assisted by Russian 'peacekeepers'. There are passport checks on the border, and they have their own currency. Economically, the country is in the grip of an oligarch who appears to own just about every modern facility.

My main reason for going was to visit the fortress at Bender (Bendery). Suleiman the Magnificent conquered the town from Moldavia in 1538 and renamed it Bender. Its fortifications were developed by the Turkish architect Koji Mimar Sinan. By the 18th century, it had become the central element of the Dniester fortress line (including Khotin and Akkerman), facing Russian advances into Ukraine.

The fortress has been extensively restored, incorporating both the original fortress and the more modern bastions and outworks.

There is a small museum inside, focusing on Charles XII, who had a base at Bender after the Battle of Poltava. 

In Bender, there is also a memorial to those who died in the 1991-2 fighting.

Then it was off to Tiraspol, via an excellent traditional lunch and copious amounts of homemade wine. This is a Soviet era time capsule (replete with Lenin statues), overlaid with modernity, all owned by an oligarch. A beer in a Soviet diner was fun.

Another war memorial with a T34 tank. A fine statue of Suvorov, who founded the city facing the boss, Catherine the Great.

Battle of Znaim 10/11 July 1809

 This week is the anniversary of the final battle of the Danube Campaign of 1809. My interest lies in the fact that this action was initiated by my favourite French Marshal, Auguste de Marmont. I was looking for a suitable battle to refight with a new member at the club using Blucher rules, and this fitted the bill.

Following the Austrian defeat at the Battle of Wagram, Archduke Charles retreated north into Bohemia, hoping to regroup his battered forces. The French army also needed time to recover, but two days after the battle, Napoleon ordered his troops north. Marmont's XI Corps caught up with the Austrians at Znaim (now Znojmo, Czech Republic) on 10 July 1809. He had around 10,000 French and Bavarian troops. 

Charles was planning a rearguard action at Znaim, to buy time for his baggage to retire into Moravia. He had some 40,000 troops, and so heavily outnumbered Marmont. Some sources say Marmont believed he was only facing a rear guard, and therefore, plunged into an attack. However, Chandler says Marmont understood it was an uneven action but wanted to pin the Austrians for long enough to allow the main body of the French army to catch up. Needless to say, I am with Chandler!

A later painting of the battle by Fritz Allemand

Marmont had followed the River Thaya and crossed it to get behind the Austrians. The battle centred on the villages of Tesswitz and Zuckerhandl, where fierce fighting took place, with both sides holding the villages during the day. However, by nightfall, the French had both villages, although Marmont's cavalry was not strong enough to turn the Austrian flank. Napoleon arrived at 10:00 a.m. on July 11th with some reinforcements, but not sufficient to sustain a new attack. He waited for Massena's Corps to arrive, which pinned the Austrians while two more French corps were expected to come on the 12th. However, at 7:00 p.m., an armistice was agreed, ending the last action of the War of the Fifth Coalition. The Treaty of Schönbrunn was signed on 14 October 1809.

The game featured a corps strength element of the Austrian army fighting a rear guard action. Marmont had three infantry divisions and a cavalry division. The figures are 15mm.

The Austrians garrisoned the two villages and kept their avant-garde and cavalry divisions in reserve on their left flank. The French battered the divisions around the villages, but couldn't break in. You need a lot of luck in Blucher to displace a garrison, as it is -1 to the attackers and +2 to the defenders. Blucher is an excellent set of rules, but I'm not sure if Sam has this one right. In many Napoleonic battles, including Znaim, villages were lost and recaptured several times, but it is rare in my games of Blucher. Mind you, my poor generalship is probably a factor.

On the right flank, the French cavalry did well to keep the Austrian reserve busy, with the Cuirassier brigade performing outstandingly. Either way, the Austrians were kept busy all day and suffered heavy casualties, so Marmont did his job. He got some grudging thanks from Napoleon with his Marshal's baton.  If Charles had extricated the Austrian army, he might have had time to rebuild and drag the war on as the Austrian war party wanted. Marmont stopped that!

Infantry in Battle 1733-1783

 Of all the many books I read in any year, only a few can be described as outstanding and original. This study of 18th-century infantry by Alexander Burns is such a book. If you have a picture of neat lines of infantry marching towards each other, discharging volleys, then this book is a necessary correction. Instead of relying on the manuals and treatises on infantry tactics, Burns focuses on soldiers' writings of what actually occurred in battle.  He concludes, ‘infantry soldiers in the eighteenth century sometimes disobeyed their officers’ commands and fought in a way that made sense to them. They aimed their weapons, fought as skirmishers, and fired independently and uncontrolled, often at a greater range than their officers preferred.’

Burns starts with a couple of battles from the little-known War of the Polish Succession, fought in Northern Italy in 1734. These actions highlight some of the themes that he tackles later in the book. The first of these is that the firelock musket was not as inaccurate as we have been brought up to believe. A man-sized target could be hit at 100 yards, and a block of infantry or cavalry at much longer ranges. Another is the assumption that peasant soldiers were automatons that carried out their orders to the letter. Burns examines the village world they came from and argues that it was more contentious and litigious than we might think. This led to soldiers questioning absurd orders and, on occasion, doing what seemed sensible rather than adhering to the textbook orders of their officers. They could fire at will, take cover, and utilise terrain. Officers learned that just beating men didn't work; they needed to show inspirational leadership.

We consider skirmishers as part of line regiments, a Napoleonic innovation. However, there is plenty of evidence that flankers developed during the 18th century. Even the Prussians used Heckenfeuer (controlled skirmishing). Officers were able to trust their troops to use aimed fire and skirmishing, a level of initiative and delegation that deviates from the traditional wisdom. How quickly troops could fire has been a subject of significant debate, not least by wargame rule writers. While four or five rounds a minute was achievable on the parade ground, two or three rounds a minute was more realistic on the battlefield. Firefights could go on for a long time, depleting the number of rounds an infantryman carried very quickly. That doesn't mean they necessarily ran out of ammunition very often; armies developed close support by using ammunition wagons and carts. The conclusion being that firepower increasing played a dominant role.

Volley fire demanded effective manoeuvring on the battlefield, and the Prussians led the way. However, speed and dexterity in loading, rather than robotic obedience, gave them an edge. Neat lines may have been achievable on the parade ground but not on even relatively flat battlefields. We are told that many generals, Suvorov springs to mind, favoured the bayonet over the musket. However, while melee combat happened, it was less frequent than imagined. 

Burns finishes with two battles in North America, which reinforce his themes. Although some of the circumstances were different, not least the limited use of cavalry. The conclusions focus on the evidence for writing the history of battle from below. Soldiers rather than officers and manuals. While I might have wished for more examples from Eastern Europe, there is a problem of sources. Russian serfs were not noted for writing memoirs, and there is limited archival evidence from letters home. Nonetheless, this book is an eye-opener on 18th-century warfare, building on the work of the late great Christopher Duffy. 

Some late 18th-century 'Potemkin' Russian infantry from my current project.

Honours Even

 The latest in my Nigel Tranter re-reading project covers the period of Oliver Cromwell's occupation of Scotland between the Regicide and the Restoration. It's a little-known period of Scottish history, with the focus being on the Commonwealth in England.

The story is told through the eyes of an actual, albeit minor, historical character, James Ramsay of Bamff in Perthshire. He came from a Royalist group of families who had supported Montrose and were there to welcome Charles II to his coronation as King of Scots. Charles was somewhat bemused at his reception from the Covenanters, an experience that would play out in the future.

Cromwell's reaction to the coronation was to invade Scotland. He was repulsed outside Edinburgh and retreated to Dunbar, where his army could be supplied by sea. The Battle of Dunbar (1650) was a disaster for the larger Scottish army, the blame largely falling on the Kirk, which interfered with the battle plans of the experienced Scots commander David Leslie. This led to an initial occupation, while the Scottish army accompanied Charles II to raise the Royalist flag in England. This ended badly a year later at the Battle of Worcester. 

Our hero stayed in Scotland and was involved in rescuing the crown jewels, known as the Honours of Scotland, from Edinburgh Castle and its Roundhead garrison. It was decided to take them to Dunnotar Castle, south of Aberdeen, for safety. A significant portion of the book is devoted to the subsequent siege. The Honours were spirited out before the garrison was starved into surrender. 

These are the honours, which are now displayed at Edinburgh Castle.

There are differing stories about how the Honours were removed, and Tranter goes for the version that the local minister's wife hid them when she was allowed to visit the castle. Tranter tells a story about the Roundhead artillery being captured by the MacGregors and sunk in a bog. This may be an embellishment of the novelist, as the Roundheads did manage to get artillery in place.

Either way, Dunnotar is one of Scotland's finest castles, and not to be missed if you are in the north east. 

Our hero is then involved in various attempts to challenge the Roundhead occupation of Scotland. These suffered from the usual divisions within the country and had little impact. It ended with the Restoration after Cromwell's death.

After the books on James I and VI, this was a significant improvement. Plenty of action and a story well told.

Some of my 28mm Roundheads.

Weapons of the Falklands Conflict

 This is Bryan Perrett's book on the weapons systems deployed by both sides in the Falklands War. It was written just after the conflict in 1982, and I picked it up in my local Oxfam bookshop. Not because I don't have a mountain of books on the subject, having written my own book on HMS Ambuscade, but because I was interested in comparing his initial reactions to later studies that have the benefit of data released since the conflict.

After a brief introduction to the conflict, the author divides the weapon systems into three dimensions: naval, air (including helicopters and fixed-wing aircraft), and land. He begins each section with a list of the equipment used, followed by a section on the action.

The sinking of the Belgrano outside the exclusion zone was something of a cause célèbre at the time. Whatever the moral and legal issues, he makes a valid point that, although the Belgrano was an old ship, it had Exocet missiles that could have reached the task force. The sinking also drew the Argentine Navy's attention to the presence of at least one Royal Navy hunter-killer submarine. This resulted in the Argentine Navy remaining in port for the remainder of the conflict. 

His comments on the design of Royal Navy frigates with aluminium upper works are interesting, as HMS Ambuscade was one of those. Aluminium has a lower melting point than steel, but a direct hit from a missile would destroy steel as well. The real lessons centred on electronic warfare (in the absence of AWACS) and the merits of various anti-missile systems. The Gannet could not fly off the smaller carriers. This was the first three-dimensional missile war in naval history, and many lessons have been learned since.

While helicopters were not a new weapon system in 1982, they were crucial to the naval and land battles. One of the roles of the naval Lynx helicopter was to act as a missile decoy. This involved the hair-raising manoeuvre of drawing the missile away from the ship and climbing sharply at the last second. The loss of the Atlantic Conveyor and its heavy Chinook helicopters was a big setback, as they could carry 44 infantrymen in one lift.  

In the air battle, the Argentine aircraft were operating at the limit of their operational radius. This meant limited time over the islands. Perrett draws an interesting analogy with the Luftwaffe during the Battle of Britain. The Harrier performed exceptionally well in a role for which it was not originally designed. The Argentine Air Force concentrated on the two carriers, while Perrett argues they would have been better concentrating on the landing ships. He might be right, but we now know more about the problems they had with bomb fuses.

Overall, this is an excellent little book, which hasn't dated as much as I expected. I had the benefit of later research, interviews with sailors who were there, and access to the Ministry of Defence files.

The Story of Russia

 I am generally attracted to niche history, specific periods or events. However, I picked up this 'big history' book by Orlando Figes on my travels. My current project involves a significant amount of Russian sources, so I thought it would be a good idea to step back and take a broader view. 

This book has been described as a '300-page breeze through Russian history', so there are compromises. Russia is a big country with a big history. And it is a contested history, certainly over the foundation myths. Let's be clear, the author won't be on Vladimir Putin's Christmas card list (if he has one) because he challenges the Kremlin's version. As he says, the conflict between Russia and Ukraine over Volodymyr/Vladminir as the founder of Russia "is not a genuine historical dispute, but two incompatible foundation myths". The Kievan Rus myth was developed for nationalist purposes, and it is not the first time in Russia's history. 

This is not just a narrative history. The themes are built around some key questions. Why is Russia so big? How was it able to expand and incorporate so many nationalities? And why did it develop as an autocratic state? 

The early Russ probably developed better relations with the Khazar tribes than is generally assumed, initially as vassals. Trading relations with the steppe tribes were important, but it was military power that enabled the Rus to emerge as the Khazar state declined. That expansion and independence were put on hold when the Mongols appeared. While Alexander Nevsky was defeating the Swedes and the Teutonic Knights, he also collaborated with the Mongols in suppressing revolts. That history is a challenge for the chroniclers after he was made a saint. The Mongol and Tatar legacy tends to be downplayed in Russian history, but it is evident in the language, family names, and places. 

The current Russian regime claims that it was never a colonial power. The chapter on Ivan the Terrible's genocidal colonial expansion into Siberia (and Alaska) contradicts this, and Catherine's expansion into the Pontic Steppe, Crimea, and the Caucasus also debunks the myth. None of these lands is ethnically Russian; they were colonised. Russian Tsars, from Peter the Great, saw themselves as a European state, and colonised the indigenous peoples in the same way as others.

When we reach the 19th century, the question of governance comes to the forefront. There were attempts to develop liberal institutions and representative local government. Alexander had liberal sympathies, but Napoleon's invasion put a halt to that. The Decemberist Revolt of 1825 failed, and Nicholas adopted repression as part of his fear of further revolution. The Third Department, a precursor to the KGB and FSB, was established during this period. The revolutions of 1848 confirmed his worst fears, prompting him to intervene in Poland and Hungary. The humiliation of the Crimean War was a further retrenchment in internal reform.

The big chance came in the 1860s, with at least basic education, some liberal institutions, the abolition of serfdom, and a partial form of local democracy. However, the Tsar's assassination in 1881 brought Alexander III to the throne, and all the usual vested interests persuaded him to reverse the reforms. It was downhill from there as he restored the autocratic principle, which inevitably led to revolution, civil war, and eventually the likes of Stalin. Putin is simply the latest iteration of that autocracy. As Figues puts it, 'Twice in the Twentieth century, in 1917 and 1991, the autocratic state has broken down, only to be reborn in a different form." He spends the last chapter exploring why that might be, but in essence, the answer is history. The Ukrainian war shows how dangerous historical myths can be when used by dictators to reinvent their country's past. 

If you want to understand the current state of Russia and its key turning points in history, I recommend this book. Fascinating and very readable.

Some of my Russ cavalry in 28mm

Unicorn Rampant

 The latest in my Nigel Tranter project covers similar ground as the previous few books, the reign of James I and VI. I am reading them broadly chronologically, but Tranter didn't write them that way.

This time, the story is told through the eyes of John Stewart of Methven, the illegitimate son of the Duke of Lennox, and Mary Gray.  He is unwillingly drawn into the English court and James' fundraising efforts. This primarily relates to monopolies, a highly profitable royal grant to companies that were given a monopoly of particular trades. In this case, he identifies a gap in the paper trade and expands Scottish production to meet the demand. He is appointed Keeper of Dumbarton Castle and discovers how the corrupt world of royal financing works in the 17th century. There is also a long-running love interest.

This is the portrait of the Duke of Lennox from my recent trip to the National Portrait Gallery. One of my favourites. 

If this doesn't appear to make a riveting historical novel, you would be right. The story is told well, but it is not exactly a riveting plot. These novels are my bedtime reading, and I have been sleeping very well recently!